


Fun in the Sun

by missbeizy



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, Rimming, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-17
Updated: 2013-02-17
Packaged: 2017-11-29 15:02:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/688302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missbeizy/pseuds/missbeizy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PWP.  First-time rimming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fun in the Sun

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [over on Tumblr](http://missbeizy.tumblr.com/post/41312700301/should-i-start-giving-this-shit-titles).

“Whoever came up with the idea of swimming in a chemical bath under the blazing heat of the mid-day sun was an idiot,” Kurt sighs. He is literally covered in sunscreen and wearing a bathing suit that Blaine thinks may have been popular among women in the 1950’s. They haven’t gone into the water yet but Blaine is pretty sure that he has a bathing cap ready for when they do.

God, he loves his boyfriend.

“I’m going to indulge in my chemical bath, then,” he says, leaning over and kissing Kurt’s cheek. “Join me?”

The others are all hovering around the barbecue and there isn’t a single styrofoam noodle or sparkler in sight. Kurt glances back and forth, face scrunched up in consideration, and finally moves to stand. “It is only my undying love for you that allows me to brave the destructive force of chlorine,” he says.

Blaine grins and slides his hands around Kurt’s hips. “I appreciate that. I also appreciate your lovely ensemble.”

“I was going for adorable, aquatic lunatic.”

“Success,” Blaine replies and leads Kurt, bathing cap and all, toward the edge of the pool.

*

The thing about Kurt’s amazingly retro bathing suit is that it’s kind of silly and awesome and Blaine really loves that Kurt chose something unexpected, something insane, but then it gets wet and, well. Then Kurt is basically a slender figure in form-fitting black and it pretty much leaves nothing to the imagination and Blaine has to leave the pool and hobble to the bathroom to deal with an awkward erection.

God, Kurt’s body. That round, perfect ass. It had taken all of Blaine’s willpower to not touch it. Not that they would have, even if Kurt had wanted it, even if they’d been more alone than they were; they both agree that pool sex is seriously not classy as well as unhygienic.

Swallowing, he leans back against the bathroom door and rubs himself, eyes closed and thighs apart. He doesn’t want to go too far, just to press and stroke a little; it feels necessary to do so to preserve his sanity. His face and neck and shoulders flush with heat as his cock swells inside his swimming trunks. He grasps the thickness of the shaft, squeezes and rubs hard up and down. A small noise, no more than a squeaky breath, passes his lips.

He tries not to think of Kurt because if he does he won’t be able to stop and he knows it, but it’s so hard not to, especially considering the bathing suit thing, and—

How can he not? 

He imagines Kurt getting hard in it, the swell of his cock against the material, he imagines mouthing at it through the suit, Kurt’s fingers tangled in his wet curls. He imagines Kurt bending over him in one of those structurally unsound beach chairs, the metal and plastic shifting dangerously under them as Kurt slides one wet hand into his trunks. He imagines Kurt’s eyes flashing with adoration and desire.

Oh. Oh—

Shit.

He stops, so close that he had almost just—all over his hand. 

Shit, shit, shit. Belly heaving with uneven breath, he goes to the sink to splash cold water on his face.

Someone knocks on the door and he jumps, then inhales to steady his voice and answers, “I’ll be out in a second.”

Kurt replies, “It’s me. Can I come in? I need to rinse off.”

“Sure, I’m just washing my hands.”

Bathroom sharing is still way awkward and not something that they’ve figured out the boundaries of yet, but this is Rachel’s house so it seems a more neutral territory.

Kurt drips his way into the room and then the shower, sliding the glass door shut behind him. He takes off his suit inside. Blaine stares as the bathing cap and suit are draped over the shower door. He stares at the almost entirely obscured outline of Kurt’s body through the frosted glass.

He wets his slack mouth and tells himself to stop staring like a creeper. 

He finds a towel under the vanity and sets it near the shower. _I am a good boyfriend_ , he thinks. _I am not going to make Kurt uncomfortable_.

He turns to leave just as Kurt opens the shower door, fumbles blindly for a towel, finds it, and smiles. Water drips from his flushed face and neck and shoulders. “Thanks, honey.”

“No problem,” Blaine exhales, staring in helpless awe.

Kurt wraps the towel so that it covers him from sternum to knee and only then does he exit the shower. Looking in the mirror, he sighs. “It could have been worse. The sunscreen did its job and we were only in there for about twenty minutes, so—”

“Yeah,” Blaine answers vacantly.

Kurt looks at him through the mirror, cheeks suddenly pinker. “Is this not okay?” He motions between them.

“You are just very, um, naked. Towel.”

Kurt smiles, eyes brimming with affection and something that might be excitement. “I have reduced you to gibberish. What do I win?”

God, Kurt’s dimples make him _useless_.

“This is okay,” Blaine says, determined to be mature. “It’s just kind of sudden, and you are—wet. And towel.” He swallows, staring at Kurt’s reflection in the mirror.

“Blaine Anderson,” Kurt drawls, slow and sweet, turning and walking forward until they are almost touching. “Your mind is full of dirty thoughts. I can tell.”

Blaine slides his arms around Kurt’s waist and Kurt slides his arms around Blaine’s neck and the door is suddenly against Blaine’s back and Kurt kisses him.

He thinks he can hear something in his brain actually pop.

The towel around Kurt’s torso slips down to his hips and Blaine inhales sharply as his fingers find the sweet, naked dip of Kurt’s lower back, still wet and a little warm to the touch. He splays his fingers wide, just barely grazing the swell of Kurt’s ass. He tries to memorize the shape of the knobs of Kurt’s spine.

Oh god they are touching almost everywhere.

Kurt pulls back, breathing heavily, lips pink and puffy from the kissing. Blaine expects him to adjust the towel or stop this thing in its tracks entirely but all he does is stare, eyes dark and heavy-lidded. “How long have you been—” Kurt glances down between them, then up at his face again.

“Um,” he says. “A while.”

Kurt stares at his mouth and then kisses him again. “Don’t be embarrassed.”

How can Kurt expect him to converse when their tongues are involved?

“What would you like to do right now?” Kurt asks, high-pitched and breathless.

He doesn’t stop to consider that Kurt might mean lunch or beverages or a television show or a poker game or a duet. He just says, “I want to get back into that shower with you,” and slides his right hand up Kurt’s spine. 

“Oh,” Kurt squeaks. There is a pause, and then Kurt moves his hips and the towel falls around his ankles. He sinks his fingers into Blaine’s hair, which is now drying into puffed up corkscrews.

Blaine grips Kurt’s back, feeling literally dizzy and not looking down not looking down not looking down—

Kurt’s fingers trace the waistband of his swimming trunks. “Can we even things out?”

_Oh my god._

Kurt wants him naked, Kurt wants them to be naked together, oh god, oh god. It is going to be weird, he is going to be weird, what if Kurt thinks he is weird naked? Not to mention that he’s been hard for well over an hour and he’s uncomfortable and knows that if they touch even a little he’s not going to be able to hold back.

But all he says is, “Sure.”

Kurt’s hands coast along his lower back, then snag in the waistband and push. They fall and he steps out of them. His face is on fire. He swallows, not wanting to think about Kurt staring at his cock because it’s equal amounts of terrifying and arousing.

“Lock the door?” Blaine asks, trying to sound neutral but in his head thinking please say yes please say yes.

Kurt nods, then kisses him and takes his hands, leading him into the shower once their privacy is secured.

Fully hard again, Blaine presses Kurt into the far wall away from the warm spray and kisses him. “God, Kurt—” Kurt’s arms wrap around his neck and Blaine loves that, loves the way Kurt’s body angles down and in against his when they kiss like that. He wishes everything didn’t taste either bland or like chlorine at the moment, but there is nothing that he can do about that. He presses his thumbs in against the bone on either side of Kurt’s hips and feels Kurt gasp and twitch forward. At this distance it’s impossible to avoid touching more intimately, and they both inhale sharply when their erections brush.

“Blaine,” Kurt whimpers.

“Are we okay?”

Kurt’s mouth trips down his jaw. “Ask me later,” he replies, pressing one hand against Blaine’s back to bring them closer together.

“Okay,” Blaine moans.

They kiss and rock together for a long time, no real friction at all but it’s comfortable and not scary to just press together; they both know what erections feel like and now that they’ve seen each other it’s not the end of the world. But after a while Blaine needs to do something else or he thinks his balls might actually explode, they are so tight and full. He’d like very much to take the focus off of himself in order to slow things down a little. He’d had far too much of a head start for this to be fair for Kurt.

“Would you—would you turn around?” His voice actually cracks there. Kurt stares at him, wide-eyed and flushed. “We can stop the second you want to stop, I just—”

The warm look that Kurt gives Blaine as he turns—pale shoulders and neck and wet spiked hair and that ass, fuck—makes Blaine’s cock literally twitch between them. He doesn’t know where to start. He figures “from the top” works, and begins kissing and nibbling the back of Kurt’s neck and shoulders.

There are almost no words that do these places justice so Blaine doesn’t look for any; he merely covers them with his mouth and hands until Kurt is letting out these tiny breathy whines and his hips are churning against the shower wall. Those hips, god, Blaine would go to hell and back again for those hips.

He’s halfway down Kurt’s back when he realizes he doesn’t want to stop. His cock and balls literally ache, but it’s more important to him that Kurt enjoy every moment of the attention he so richly deserves. He doesn’t even think about it, he just sinks to his knees—the tip of his tongue tracing Kurt’s spine as he goes—onto the shower mat and buries his face against Kurt’s lower back.

”Oh my god,” Kurt gasps.

Blaine breathes hot and fast against Kurt’s skin. “I can stop.”

“What are you going to—”

Blaine kisses the up-curve of Kurt’s left buttock and closes his eyes. “Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are?” He knows that Kurt knows how fabulous he is, but he isn’t quite sure that he knows how amazing his body is. He curls his hands around Kurt’s cheeks, lines his thumbs along the bottom curve and squeezes, pressing his mouth to Kurt’s tailbone as he presses those lovely globes in his hands up and down in time with his kisses.

“OhmygodBlaine.”

He’s obviously doing something right, because Kurt is bending so prettily, ass out and back in, shoulder blades sliding gracefully under satiny skin as Kurt’s arms shift his weight against the tile. 

Kurt wraps his right hand around his erection and begins to stroke himself.

“Fuck. Kurt—” Blaine peppers Kurt’s buttocks with kisses. 

He isn’t doing what he really wants to do because he thinks it will freak Kurt out, but it’s so tempting (he has always, always wanted to try it) and he’s right there, and Kurt is so washed clean by soap and chlorine that it might not even be that weird for either of them, and—

“Please,” Kurt whimpers.

Blaine stares, transfixed, watching Kurt’s ass move under his hands. God, it makes his body ache it’s so hot. He spreads Kurt just a little with his thumbs and kisses along the curve of one cheek.

“Blaine—” Kurt is panting, twisting just a little, and Blaine can tell by the way his balls jiggle that he is still erratically pulling at his cock.

Blaine moans into Kurt’s skin, spreading him a little more. He drags the tip of his tongue down the center and presses a hard kiss right over Kurt’s pucker.

”Oh god!”

It tastes almost no different than skin, which probably has more to do with the shower and the pool water than anything else, but Blaine doesn’t care. He kisses, and then he licks—Kurt sobs into the tile, pelvis stuttering and knees wobbling—and then sucks a little, drawing on the skin. He pushes the tip of his tongue inside the first ring of muscle that is so fucking tight, and Kurt goes still. He stops. “Kurt?”

“I can’t believe you’re doing this.”

“Does it feel bad?”

“It feels like your tongue is in my butt.”

He laughs, and some of the tension breaks up in his chest. 

He flicks his tongue a little deeper, then draws back, kissing the circle of skin. “But how does it feel?” Kurt has resumed stroking himself and seems distracted again.

“Weird,” Kurt replies, and Blaine listens with obsessive focus to the noise that Kurt’s fist makes when it goes rapidly up and down his cock. “Good. Mostly weird.”

Blaine bites at Kurt’s right cheek, grinning like an idiot, and then goes back to tonguing his way inside. He sets to with a will, spreading Kurt and kneading his cheeks as he spears inside again and again and again, stopping to drop kisses and tongue flicks around the outside because not much seems to happen when he just starts shallowly plunging with his tongue, but Kurt goes crazy when he touches the outside bits.

Kurt definitely begins to loosen up after a short while. There is the very smallest rocking motion between his mouth and Kurt’s hips all of the sudden.

“Oh god yes, like that,” Kurt breathes, and his body is _liquid_ , writhing against Blaine's mouth.

Blaine flushes, wondering exactly how long he can go on doing this because his tongue is cramped and his jaw hurts but he doesn’t really want to stop, especially not when Kurt is arching and whimpering like that. To distract himself, he reaches down and starts jerking himself. And then he thinks that maybe he could alternate his tongue with his thumb to give himself a break, so he shifts his fingers over and presses just so, a bit downward, working the hole with the pad of his thumb but not penetrating.

It doesn’t last long after that. He keeps rubbing Kurt’s entrance in hard, rapid circles, and even dares to dip down and give his balls a lick and a kiss.

He’s not quite sure was tips Kurt over, really, because he’s just doing what he did all along, but suddenly Kurt sobs, “Oh—ohBlaine—” and jerks wildly and comes. Blaine watches it shoot stark white, rope after rope, against the dark tile and drip all the way down to the edge of the tub.

His knees are screaming at him in pain but he wants to come, needs to come, it’s been forever and he just can’t, not after that, not after Kurt just came and came with Blaine rubbing his hole—

“Come here,” Kurt pants, and Blaine surges up despite protesting muscles and wraps his arms around Kurt’s waist. He thrusts upward, rubbing himself against Kurt’s ass and that’s all it takes, a few more strokes of his own hand and he comes all over Kurt’s back and cheeks, some of it even running between them and oh, oh god that—

He jerks again, groaning, spurting weakly, several globs of come sliding over the curve of Kurt’s ass. The head of his cock lingers against that spot and when he pulls away a strand of come still connects it to Kurt’s skin.

He closes his eyes and presses his face against Kurt’s neck. “You are amazing.”

“Oh god they’re going to know, aren’t they?”

He laughs. “Probably. Do we have a problem?”

Kurt kisses the arm that Blaine has slipped around the front of his neck. “You’re going to have to make an honest woman of me now, Anderson, or I’ll never live it down.”


End file.
